by Belle Aurora
The Aunt Kim?
Uh…
The same Aunt Kim who saved Connor and Ricky from a lifetime of hell? Who raised them, nurtured them, and loved them? That Aunt Kim?
I think so.
Okay. Cool.
You’re crying.
Oh crap.
You’re also naked.
Ah, shitballs.
My cheeks had since turned a nice shade of crimson. Aunt Kim looked me over with a scrutinizing eye before she uttered, “She’s cute, Connor.” Stepping into the house, she patted the four-legged giant on the head and her eyes creased in the corners. “Where’s the rest of her?”
I died. Internally. Outwardly. All over. I just……. I was dead. Possibly the first case of death by embarrassment in the universe but there always had to be a first. And I was it.
Unsure of what to do, I softly nudged Connor’s arm with my foot and with my pleading eyes, he got the hint. As carefully as he could, he helped me down onto the ground without exposing me and when I approached Aunt Kim, making sure to avoid the ginormous doggo sitting by her side, I held out my free hand and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I’m not a crazy person.”
A single brow lifted but her mouth pulled down. “Sweetheart, I know you think that’s true but you married Connor so you’ve got to be some kind of crackers.”
Oh my God.
She hated me.
My tummy hurt and just as I opened my mouth to apologize or cry, or vomit, or all three, she tipped her head back and laughed long and hard. “Oh my God, your face. I’m kidding, Emmy.” She continued to chuckle but the smile on her face softened. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
My heart resumed beating. I tried to breathe through the apprehension and struggled to smile. “It’s probably all lies.”
Aunt Kim watched me a moment. “I hope not.”
And when she took the step forward and wrapped me in her arms, I fell in love with the woman who had loved my husband and his brother unconditionally.
Although she didn’t say it, I think…
I think she loved me too.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
True Colors.
Emmy
“Oh my God, that’s great,” I managed to exclaim without sounding like I wanted to jump into the ocean and never come back out.
I glanced down at the Doberman whom I now knew was named Roxie and asked Aunt Kim, “F-For how long?”
Aunt Kim gave Roxie a scratch behind the ear. “Not long.”
Thank God.
It was then that I realized that Aunt Kim and I had a very different definition of “not long,” because she said the words, “A month or two.”
And for a solid minute, my entire internal monologue became wholly unhinged wailing.
Externally, what I said was, “Cool,” nodding like it was no big deal. “Cool.”
I glimpsed at Roxie and because Roxie gave zero shits, she stared right on back at me. And, I swear to God, she was smiling.
Okay, so we were dog-sitting the small horse for a month or two.
How bad could it be?
I was trapped.
It was my own fault really. I’d fallen asleep on the sofa. She’d seen the opening and taken it. She knew I was smaller and weaker than her and was making an example of me.
I’d been awake for a while now but was too afraid to move.
When I opened my eyes, there she was, blinking down at me, daring me to do something.
Yes. Roxie was dominating me and I was letting her.
I was unsure how much time had passed but when I heard footsteps coming into the kitchen, relief washed over me. Connor had just walked into the large, open living area and when he spotted the massive pony straddling me, his lips tipped up in the corners. “Well, look at you two, getting along and all.”
That’s what he thought was going on?
I spoke through gritted teeth. “I have been stuck here for a half hour.”
Connor lowered himself to sit on the arm of the opposite sofa. “Aw, Emmy. C’mon. She loves you.”
A quiet scoff left me so as not to spook the seventy-pound creature now dozing on me. “She hates me, Connor. She knows I’m scared of her and she loves it.” I shook my head. “She’s planning on torturing me for the next couple of months—mark my words.”
Connor took in a long, patient breath before exhaling quietly but his smile never left him. He took a look at the dog and spoke directly to her, “Okay, Roxie.” The Doberman’s ears perked and she lifted her head off my chest to face him. “That’s enough. Get off of Emmy so she can get up.”
Roxie made a sound. At first, it scared me so I remained still.
Connor clicked his tongue. “Don’t argue with me, missy. Up you get.”
Roxie rolled onto her side and continued to moan and whine, and she did it for a long time. The longer it went on, the funnier it sounded, and when my lip started to twitch, I asked, “Is she…?” My brow lowered and I couldn’t believe I was asking what I did. “Is she backtalking you?”
“Oh yeah.” My husband, realizing that Roxie was going nowhere on her own, got up to assist me. “She’s a spoiled brat.”
The closer Connor got, the louder Roxie’s protests became and before I knew it, I was quietly laughing at how ridiculous she was being. When Connor reached out to her, the Doberman rolled over on me once again and shoved her snout into my armpit. Her muffled complaints were too much.
My laughter could no longer be contained. My body shook with unrestrained mirth.
Okay, so maybe Roxie wasn’t as scary as I thought.
Actually, Roxie was kind of hilarious.
Connor chuckled. “I don’t know, Emmy. I think you’re stuck with her.”
No longer frightened, I felt stupid asking the question so I did it quietly, a little unsure, “What do I do with her?”
Luckily, Connor didn’t make me feel any dumber than I already did. “You could try petting her.”
Yeah. Okay. Dogs liked to be petted. I could try that. Sure.
It was the moment of truth. If she bit my hand off… oh, Lord, would Connor pay.
Slowly, I lifted my arm and hovered over her trim belly. Before I could think better of it, I rested my hand on the curve of her ribs. And Roxie stilled.
My heart skipped a beat.
Testing the waters, I softly scraped at her with my fingertips.
And it was as if all my Christmases had come at once.
Roxie’s undocked tail began to thump against the back of the sofa and that was that. We were now best friends forever.
A happy little sound escaped me and growing in confidence, I scratched a little harder. Roxie’s back leg began to scratch at the air and the happiness that lit inside me was unrivalled. “Oh my God, she is so cute.”
I couldn’t believe it. Was this the same dog that almost scared me into an apoplectic fit just the night before? No. It couldn’t be.
This dog was, “Such a sweet girl.” She was, “The best widdle doggie in the whole wide world. Yes, she is.”
When Roxie licked my chin, clearly overwhelmed by her love of me, I fell even harder.
Looking up at Connor, I wrapped my arms around the princess and uttered a forlorn, “Does she have to go home?”
At that, Connor rolled his eyes, forced out a sound of pure annoyance and walked away, shaking his head.
Connor nodded slowly a long time before repeating some of what I’d just told him. “Japan. Turkey. Six weeks. On tour.”
I knew this was going to be hard but, geez. It was even harder than I’d imagined. And the thing was, Connor hadn’t lashed out like I thought he might. He didn’t act like a selfish jerk. Instead, he was entirely calm. You would think that would’ve made things easier.
It didn’t.
In fact, I kind of wished he had lost it. At least then I would know how to deal with it.
I didn’t know
what to do with serene calm.
“Wow,” he said. “This is a big deal, Em.” He reiterated, “A huge deal.” Completely detached, he looked up at me and gave me the out I needed. “You have to go.”
I did. It was part of my contract to become The Violet Dame whenever needed and a tour was all about publicity. I absolutely had to go.
So why did I feel like saying it didn’t matter. Why did I want to tell him I wouldn’t go? That I’d stay with him?
My voice was small. “It is a big deal. They’re so excited.” And more importantly, “They deserve this.”
Connor agreed, “They do.”
The silence between us grew to the point of discomfort. Unable to stand it, I slid my hand across the covers to squeeze his knee. “We’re going to be okay, right?”
My unsure enquiry seemed to snap him out of his zombie-like state.
He stared at me as if I were crazy. “Fuck yeah, we’re going to be okay, baby.”
Then why did it feel as though something had changed?
And although I didn’t want to believe it, I just knew it was something we couldn’t change back.
The next day, The Vixens unexpectedly arrived at the house.
I assumed they were there to see me but when Connor whistled from the top of the staircase and jerked his chin toward the upstairs office, they all made their way up, sparing me some annoyed glances on the way.
Of course, I followed them. But when I arrived in the doorway, Connor blocked my entrance. “Baby, this will go a lot smoother if you’re not here.”
And with that, he kissed my nose and shut the door in my face.
My expression murderous, I knocked on the door and demanded, “What’s going on?”
I heard low talking but no one bothered to respond to me.
Another knock, harder this time. “Guys!”
I tried to twist the doorknob but I was locked out.
More low talking. I even heard some quiet shushing.
What the flip?
My mouth rounded.
They were ignoring me. I was being ignored. The audacity.
Jerks!
What were they talking about?
Crouching by the door, I put my ear to it.
That didn’t help.
I put my eye to the keyhole and squinted.
All I could see was Connor’s lower half as he paced.
I was so confused.
And so, I did the only thing I could.
I waited.
Over the course of the following hours, I didn’t hear much but the things I heard made zero sense.
“Connor, stop drawing penises in the boxes!” That was Cherry.
Connor responded an equally irritated, “It’s how I mark my territory! Yeesh.”
I was leaning against the door when it opened suddenly and then I was lying on the ground with five faces smiling down at me. Connor reached a hand out to me and when I slapped it away, he smiled harder. “Aw, don’t be pissed.”
I stood on my own—thank you very much—and stormed into the office. There were three whiteboards divided into three months and written within the boxes were all of The Vixens upcoming events in purple marker, written in Cherry’s handwriting. In some of the boxes were other things written in black, in Connor’s handwriting. There were also a few boxes with a black, scribbled penis in them.
Baffled, I turned and asked, “What is this?”
Connor responded, “A schedule.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he explained, “When they get you and when I get you.”
Oh.
“It was Connor’s idea,” Cherry shared, and I wasn’t sure why.
I was quiet for a while and when I spoke, my voice was barely there. “Why?”
“Because you were right. You put me on a pedestal,” he admitted like it cost him something. “You always put me first and we can’t live like that, Emmy. You can’t live like that. It’s not fair. So,” he inhaled then went on, “I called The Vixens and we put together a schedule we can all live with. One where we share you.” When he said what he said next, my heart shattered into a thousand pieces. “One where I don’t fuck up your life.”
Wow.
As far as sentiments went, that was really damn sweet.
Yes. Connor Clash had indeed changed.
But I hadn’t realized just how much until a week later.
It was early afternoon Saturday and we were having a barbecue. The weather was warm and everyone was there except Micah and Amber, who unfortunately had a family commitment to attend. It was also why Cherry had turned up late and when I opened the door to let her in, my mouth dropped open.
The first thing out of her mouth was, “Say a single word and die.”
I put my hands up in surrender. “I didn’t.”
“You were gonna,” she retorted.
I couldn’t help myself. “You look pretty.”
Her lip curled as if the thought disgusted her and she continued down the hall. “I know.”
I trailed right behind her and when she made it to the entrance of the back door, a rounding appreciative cheer as well as a rather loud wolf whistle sounded through the air. Cherry stilled before spinning on me, looking like I’d betrayed her. She whisper-hissed, “I thought it was just going to be Connor.”
My face apologetic, I explained, “It was going to be but the guys cancelled their plans.” Looking around her, I spotted Hell making a full inventory of Cherry’s cute little butt.
Cherry’s eyes closed and she sighed.
“He’s seen you now. Besides,” I shrugged lightly, “he definitely likes what he sees.”
Cherry sneered, “As if I care.”
But the light flush on the apples of her cheeks told me she did care. She cared a lot.
In full metal Vixen, Cherry straightened her shoulders, turned and walked outside, flipping Ettie the bird and saying a bored sounding, “What? Sundresses can’t be metal?”
“Fuck no,” Pearl hooted with laughter.
Her smirk purely Cherry, she popped the top on a beer, took a long pull then responded a menacing, “I’ll tell you what’s metal, okay?” I was surprised when she took the seat next to Helmer. “I make the fucking rules.” My surprise rose four whole levels when she tipped her beer in Hell’s direction and he clicked his own beer against hers.
Beth squeezed Cherry’s shoulder as she walked past to join Lee and Noah by the grill. “Well, I think you look great.”
Cherry bowed in a regal nod. “Thank you, Bethany.”
Hell looked at Cherry. I mean, he really looked at her before turning his gaze to the tabletop. “You do.”
“What?” asked Cherry, brows pinching together.
Hell averted his eyes as he spoke but he leant into her. “You look beautiful.”
Luckily, Hell hadn’t made eye contact because he would have seen the expression of a woman who was suddenly unsure of herself and I don’t think that was what he was going for when he issued his compliment.
Cherry’s response took a while to come but when it did, it was soft. “Thanks.” I think she might’ve realized how out of sorts her reply was when Hell’s eyes met hers. She quickly corrected that, shrugging and uttering an uninterested, “Whatever. My mom bought it for me.”
Hell’s smile was tiny but it was there and I had a feeling that no matter how unaffected Cherry appeared, he was onto her.
Day turned to night and we were still outside on the deck when Lee, who was sitting suspiciously close to Beth, spoke out of nowhere. “The Vixens on tour.” He smiled and there was a hint of pride to it. “How does it feel?”
Ettie responded first, softly. “Unbelievable.”
Pearl agreed. “It’s a dream I’m afraid to wake up from. I keep thinking they might’ve made a mistake.”
The mood was solemn when Beth revealed, “I wanted it so bad but I never thought we’d get there.”
“That’s b
ullshit,” Lee blinked down at Beth. His brow creased as he said with conviction, “I knew you would.” Another second passed before he emphasized his statement. “I knew it.”
Beth looked like she might cry then but she didn’t. Instead, she rested her head on Lee’s shoulder and with that single movement, I was reminded that the two had a closeness about them that surpassed growing up together. Lee’s arm went around Beth and her small smile was one of pure love. I wondered how long it would take Lee to realize what he had in Beth. Something told me he would remain oblivious for a while. I just hoped his obliviousness wouldn’t cost him a woman who would quite literally do anything for him.
Hell’s words were for one person in particular. “Same here. It was always gonna happen.”
Cherry’s bullshit meter hit the roof and she scoffed, “Oh yeah?” Taking a pull of her beer, she all but dared him to go on. “Really?”
But Hell didn’t bite at her dangling carrot of aggression. He simply said, “I’ve got all your records. I think Hell on Heels was good but Ultraviolent is by far your best album. I’m waiting to see what you come up with for your third. You never go in the direction I expect you to.”
Cherry’s bravado slipped, fell, and shattered on the floor in a crash. It took her a while but she looked mildly curious as she asked a gentle, “You listen to our songs?”
“Of course,” Noah added to the mix. “You guys rock hard.”
I peered at Connor and nudged him. He narrowed his eyes on me and I just knew he wasn’t going to say a damn thing. So, I spoke for him. The words came out fast, like a bullet being shot out of a gun. “Connor listens to you in the shower.” His mouth dropped open as though I’d betrayed him. And when I added, “He sings too,” he gasped as if I’d revealed his most hidden secret.
“I trusted you.”
Each of The Vixens expressions varied from mildly surprised to absolutely stunned. Even more so when Noah took a swig of his beer and casually mentioned, “You need someone to open for you?”
Um, excuse me?
The air around us buzzed.
What was Noah implying here?
No one spoke for a minute but when Beth did, she asked slowly, “What are you saying?”